No Place Like Home
by TheNextFolchart
Summary: "The Wizard of Oz?" Professor Binns said. "The Wizard of Oz is historically correct. I'm him. The Wizard of Oz. That's me." /Written for numerous challenges and competitions on HPFC


_[Cinema Competition: The Wizard of Oz - Write about Apparation, or a literal or figurative 'change in scenery'. __"Well, some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don't they?"]_

_[Fanfiction Categories Competition: Drabble - write about something unexpected.]_

_[Interesting Words Challenge: selcouth - unfamiliar, strange, rare, and yet marvelous.]_

* * *

"That man," Ron said crossly as he came into History of Magic and sat down next to Harry, "was _not _a wizard."

"That's the whole point of the film, Ronald," Hermione said. She took the seat on Harry's other side. "He was a fake. He used his machine to make people _think _he was a wizard, and then he - "

"And that woman," Ron said over her, "was not a witch, either."

"She's the Muggle version of a witch," Hermione explained.

Ron looked like he was going to throw up. "But why was she _green_?"

"Who's green?" asked Harry, fumbling through his bag to find a pot of ink.

"Ron's just seen _The Wizard of Oz - _"

"Not a wizard!"

" - and he's a bit confused."

Ron shook his head. "I'm not confused. I'm offended. I sat through this Muggle film - that's like a portrait, Harry, only the people can't see you and everything they say is memorized beforehand."

"I know what a film is, thanks, Ron," Harry said with a grin.

"Oh, right. Well I sat through the film because Hermione told me there would be wizards, and there weren't. It was just an old man pulling a prank. He didn't even have a wand." He sighed and put his head down on the desk. "There's two hours of my life I'll never get back."

"Only 101 minutes, actually," Hermione said. Ron let out a huge groan.

Professor Binns chose that moment to glide in through the chalkboard. "We will begin where we left off, in chapter sixty-three," he said without preamble. Hermione whipped out her quill and held it over the top of her parchment, poised to take notes. "The goblin strikes were a relatively difficult time in wizarding history, as nobody could get money out of the banks without goblins to open the vaults . . . "

"I've never seen The Wizard of Oz," Harry whispered to Ron, who still had his face pressed against his desk.

"Consider yourself lucky, mate," Ron said. "It was pointless. The Muggle just dreamed the whole thing, in the end. And there's a lion - which I thought was going to be good because, you know, Gryffindor - but he's _cowardly_. And the witch! She's green. Literally, all of her skin is dyed green. She looks like an overzealous Slytherin fan at a Quidditch match."

"Shh," Hermione hissed.

Ron ignored her. "And the Wizard of Oz? The bloke the film's named after? He's doesn't show up until the end, and he's not even a wizard. He can't do any magic. None. He's a bloody Muggle like the rest of them."

"_Ron,_" Hermione whispered. "_Shh._"

"I can't believe I wasted my entire free period," Ron moaned. "Next time Hermione tries to convince me to come to her Muggle Studies class when I'm on my free period, you've got to stop me, Harry."

Hermione leaned across Harry's desk to address Ron. "I didn't try to convince you," she said in a fierce whisper. "I mentioned I was off to see a Muggle film about magic, and you bounded down the corridor after me like a puppy. I couldn't have stopped you if I'd tried. It's not my fault the movie disappointed you."

"Of course it is!" Ron rolled his eyes. By this point, everyone in class was paying more attention to their argument than to Binns' lesson. "You could've warned me that this particular Muggle movie was rubbish."

"It's not rubbish," Hermione said out of the side of her mouth. She straightened back up and began to scribble down some notes. "It's a cinematic masterpiece."

"The witch was green, Hermione."

Hermione finally put down her quill. "It's _symbolism, _you imbecile_. _The witch was greedy. Green is the color that represents greed. Therefore the director - and the author of the novel before him - decided to make the witch have _green skin_."

"Some witch, if she couldn't even magick herself back to normal," Ron said. "And anyway," he added hastily when Hermione drew breath to argue back, "the whole thing was just a dream. None of it was real. It was all pointless."

"It wasn't pointless. Did you even pay attention? Dorothy felt unhappy at home, and then she discovered this magical land that was strange and marvelous and everything she thought she wanted. But it had a darker side, as well, and by the time her adventure was over she'd realized that home was exactly where she needed to be. Did you miss all of that? Did you miss the entire message?"

"Yes, because I was waiting for the part with the bloody wizard!" Ron let his voice raise to a shout, and Professor Binns finally appeared to notice that no one was listening to a word of his lesson.

"Charlie?" he said, looking at Ron. "Herman . . . nania? Is something wrong?"

"Nothing, Professor," Hermione said, turning bright red. "Ron was just giving his opinion on a Muggle film."

"Oh?" He looked at Ron. "And what is the relevance between the film and my lesson, pray tell?"

Ron squirmed in his chair. "Well, you teach History of Magic," he said finally. "And this film, it wasn't very historically accurate. But Hermione thinks it is," he added.

Binns floated over to Hermione. "Well, Harmonica?" he said. "Let's hear your take."

Hermione set her jaw. "I _don't_ think The Wizard of Oz is accurate," she says. "I just think it's a good movie, and - "

"'Cinematic masterpiece,' she called it," supplied Ron.

"It has a lot of good messages!" Hermione looked like she was going to burst into tears. "Not everything selcouth is good."

"If selcouth means pointless movies, then yeah, you're right," Ron said.

Hermione whipped her head around to glare at him. "It means _wondrous_," she snapped. "It means _rare_, and _unfamiliar, _and _enchanting, _the way Hogwarts feels to those of us who haven't grown up with magic. And then we get here, to this absolute Oz of a school, and we find out that there are prejudices against us, and maybe we were wrong to want to come here so badly." She let out a huff. "That's why I find it an accurate film," she said, turning back to Professor Binns. "Not because it's historically correct. But because it's true to life."

Professor Binns squinted at her. "The Wizard of Oz?" he said. "The Wizard of Oz is historically correct."

"_What_?" Ron and Hermione said it at the same time.

"How do you know, sir?" asked Hannah Abbott from the back of the classroom.

"I'm him. The Wizard of Oz. That's me."

A gasp went up around the classroom. "What do you mean?" asked Lavender Brown.

Binns stared at her for a second, his mouth hanging open in shock. It was the first time in his entire teaching career that any student (other than Hermione) had asked for more information about the past.

"I was quite young," he said slowly, trying to remember, but ghosts didn't have brains, and it was hard to recall old memories without brainpower. "Just out of Hogwarts. I got my NEWTs in Divination," he added, in case anyone wanted to know. "And as soon as I graduated, I packed up my crystal ball and went west. I wanted to travel, to see as much of the world as I could. I always had a wandering spirit, much like some of the ancient giants we'll read about in the next chapter . . ."

People had started to lose interest, Binns could see. "Anyway, after travelling for nearly fifty years, I settled down in an American state called Kansas. That's where I met her. Dorothy." He smiled a little, his voice trailing off as he caught hold of the memory at last.

* * *

_Dorothy is young and pretty and sad, so sad, and Cuthbert wishes there were something he could do to make her smile. "You're running away," he guesses, and she has the decency to act surprised._

_Or maybe she isn't acting at all. She is Muggle, after all. She doesn't realize his crystal ball is real._

_"Why are you running away?"_

_She tells him - or rather, he "guesses" it - and then asks whether she can come along with him on his travels. He wishes he could say yes, but the Ministry is very strict about keeping the wizarding world a secret from Muggles, so he persuades her to go home instead. _

_As Dorothy is walking away, though, the wind begins to pick up. It's not a tornado, not yet; at this rate, though, it'll be a twister before sundown. Dorothy stumbles a little, blown around by the wind, but she keeps pressing on toward home._

_She doesn't notice the giant sheet of metal flying through the air toward her head, but Cuthbert does, and before he knows what's happening he's got his wand out and he's screaming, "_Wingardium leviosa!_"_

_Dorothy looks up in shock and sees him holding the sheet up in midair using nothing but a short, thin piece of wood, and she gasps. "You're no Professor," she accuses. "You're a magician!"_

_"Wizard," Cuthbert corrects, and then curses himself. So much for Muggles not knowing._

_He wracks his brain for any memory modification spells, but he draws a blank. It doesn't really matter. His memory charms have always been weak. The only person he's ever met who can perform a proper one is Gertrude Linda, whom he hasn't seen since they shared a cauldron during seventh year at Hogwarts. _

_But she's the Headmistress there now, if he recalls correctly. She could fix this mess without anyone at the Ministry ever finding out. She's only an apparation away._

_"Come here," he calls to the girl, and Dorothy runs back to him. "Take my hand," he tells her. "And don't let go, no matter what happens."_

_He spins on the spot, and with a _crack_, the two of them are gone._

_They reappear in Hogsmeade, and he takes Dorothy down to the castle and hides her away in the kitchens. "Don't come out of here," he says. "I'm going to bring someone special down here to meet you. She's a very powerful witch, and - "_

_"A witch!" Dorothy looks frightened._

_"A _good _witch," Cuthbert specifies. "Her office is up near the North Tower, I'll just run off to fetch her." And then he sweeps out of the kitchen_

* * *

Professor Binns paused. "The next part of the story isn't actually mine," he admitted. "I only know it happened because of what I heard later on . . . And we all know that history isn't accurate unless it's heard firsthand. So maybe I'd better skip this bit."

"No!" Harry practically shouted, earning himself several odd looks. "No, Professor, I've never seen the movie," he explained. "I want to hear about every part. Even if it might be inaccurate."

"Rubbish," muttered Ron. "You just want to waste more class time."

Harry kicked Ron under the table. "What," he hissed out of the side of his mouth. "Would you rather be hearing about goblin strikes, or a world where Binns thinks The Wizard of Oz is his autobiography?"

"Fair point," Ron said. "Please, Professor, do tell every scene."

"All right," Professor Binns said, pleased that his students wanted to listen to him talk for once, and he continued the story.

* * *

_Dorothy looks around this strange room slowly. She doesn't know where she is, or how she got here, but she knows it's more exciting than the farm at home. "Is anyone else here?" she calls._

_A small head with giant ears pokes around a corner. "Yes?" it squeaks, approaching Dorothy. It's a small creature, about half the size of Dorothy herself, and it's dressed in a filthy pillowcase. "What can Elphie do for Miss?"_

_"Why, you're a munchkin!" Dorothy cries, reaching down to pat Elphie's head._

_Elphie giggles. "Elphie is a House Elf, Miss," she says. "The other elves hid when they saw a Muggle coming, but Elphie is brave, Elphie would never hide." The munchkin turns and beckons around the corner. One by one, a myriad of other munchkins files into the kitchen. _

_"Oh, my," Dorothy says, looking around at the creatures. "I've a feeling I'm not in Kansas anymore."_

_"What's Kansas?" asks Elphie. "This is Hogwarts."_

_"Hogwarts." It sounds odd on Dorothy's tongue. "Well, what is there to do for fun here at Hogwarts?"_

_"There's cleaning," offers one munchkin._

_"And cooking!" _

_"And baking, don't forget that."_

_"Yes," Dorothy says, "but what about for human girls?"_

_"Quidditch," says Elphie. "Students enjoy Quidditch."_

_"Quidditch?" That word is odd, too. "What's that?"_

_"A sporting event. There's a match today, Hufflepuff versus Slytherin. Miss should go watch!"_

_"Okay." Dorothy looks nervous. "How do I get there?"_

_"Follow those students," one of the munchkins pipes up, pointing out the door of the kitchens. "That group of Hufflepuffs is going. See them? The ones in the yellow robes?"_

_"Just follow the yellow robes," squeaks Elphie,"and Miss will be there in no time."_

_"Follow the yellow robes." Dorothy repeats it twice so she won't forget."Follow the yellow robes. I will. Thank you all so much!"_

_She leaves the kitchens and follows the yellow robes out of the castle and into what can only be the Quidditch stadium. She looks around for a ball or a bat, or even a _player_, but the field is empty. She can't figure out what these people are cheering for. Maybe the yellow robes led her to the wrong place? She looks around to see where they've gone, and she catches a glimpse of something overhead. A brightly-colored bird, perhaps? She cranes her neck back -_

_- and claps her hands over her mouth. Because there are _people _up there, people on broomsticks, and one of them is zooming toward her, she's dressed all in green and she's got her arm outstretched and she looks like she wants to grab _Dorothy_._

_Dorothy turns and bolt from the Quidditch stadium. Behind her, she can hear a booming voice announce that, "Slytherin Seeker Cassiopeia Black has caught the Snitch and won the game!" but those words mean nothing to her, all she knows is that a green-clad witch on a broomstick was reaching out for her, and she has to get away._

_She runs into a forest full of dark trees, refusing to look behind her until she's out of breath. It's only here, lost in the middle of the dark, spooky wood, that she realizes how foolish she's been. She should have never left the room with all the munchkins. She should have never left _home_. "Help," she calls, sinking down to her knees, but nobody comes. "I'm lost, and there's a wicked witch after me, and I don't know what to do. I just want to go home."_

_A hand clasps down on her shoulder, and she looks up, startled. It's a man, a fully-grown man wearing no shirt and a serious expression."Mars is bright tonight, Dorothy Gale," the man says, and Dorothy scrunches her eyebrows as she tries to sort out what _that _is supposed to mean, but as she glances she realizes this is no man at all: it's a man's face, to be sure, and a man's torso, but after that it's an _animal_, with golden fur that reminds her of a lion's._

_"How do you know my name?" Dorothy asks._

_"I know much about you, human. I know that you are far from home. I know that you do not belong here."_

_"You're right. Please," Dorothy begs, "won't you let me ride you to safety?"_

_"Ride me?" the half-man-half-lion scoffs. "Do you know what the other centaurs would do if they found a human on my back? Do I look like a common mule to you?"_

_"No," Dorothy says. "More like a lion."_

_"I am a centaur," the lion-man says. "I will lead you out of the forest, but you will _not _ride me. I won't risk being shunned."_

_"Coward," Dorothy says under her breath, but she follows the lion-man out of the forest. "Thank you," she says. "Can you tell me how to get back to the munchkins?"_

_The lion-man points at a group of yellow-clad students heading up to the castle. "Follow the yellow robes."_

* * *

"Wait a mo'," Ron said suddenly. "Are you trying to tell us that the Cowardly Lion was actually just a blond centaur? Who's dumb enough to mistake a centaur for a lion?"

"I believe him," Parvati Patil piped up. "She was a Muggle, they don't know about magical creatures."

Professor Binns nodded. "Yes, indeed, Parsley," he said, sending her a smile. "Now. Where was I?"

"But _wait _a mo'," Ron interrupted again. "The Wicked Witch of the West was a bloody Seeker? And she wanted nothing to do with Dorothy at all?"

Binns shrugged. "I told you, I wasn't there for that part. I was there for the next part. Now, let's get back to - "

"And the 'yellow brick road,' that came from the bloody _Hufflepuffs_?"

"Why are you so skeptical?" asked Hannah Abbott. "It makes sense."

"Yeah," said Justin Finch-Fletchley. "Now let Professor Binns continue."

Ron slumped down in his seat, muttering darkly under his breath.

* * *

_The yellow robes led her not back to the munchkins, but instead down into a terrifying dungeon. "Where am I?" she asks, but nobody appears to notice her. They're all chatting about the Quidditch match as they gather up big pots and begin to throw ingredients inside. _

_A hand closes on Dorothy's shoulder, startling her. "What are you doing here?" asks a woman's voice from overhead. Dorothy turns around and nearly shrieks. Standing in front of her is a woman whose skin is entirely _green_. "Are you a new student?" the woman asks. "Where are your robes?"_

_"I - you - green!"_

_"What?" The woman looks down at herself. "Oh." She pulls out a long, thin piece of wood, much like the one Cuthbert used to save her back in Kansas, and taps her arm. Her skin immediately fades back to a pale hue. "I charmed it for the Quidditch match," she explains. Dorothy still looks terrified. "I'm Professor Malfoy, the potions master. And you are?"_

_Dorothy looks around frantically. Next to her, a pair of students is adding something to their giant pot. With a bust of strength she's never realized she has, Dorothy grabs the pot by its handle and flings the contents all over Professor Malfoy._

_"Ah!" she shrieks as giant warts appear on her skin. "Why did you _do_ that?"_

_"Leave me alone!" Dorothy shouts, dropping the pot with a _clang. _She bolts from the dungeons as Professor Malfoy melts into a puddle of tears on the floor. "Help, help, help," she calls as she runs. She has no idea where she's going, but she's sure the Malfoy is following, she's sure Malfoy wants to kill her. "Help, help, help!"_

_"A damsel in distress?" cries a voice. "M'Lady! Over here! I will save you!"_

_Dorothy looks toward the voice. It's coming from a painting of a stout little man clad entirely in tin, but the painting is _moving,_ as if the person is trapped inside. _

_"I am Sir Cadogan," the tin-man says, pushing back his helmet. "And this is my trusty friend, Bolger, from two portraits over." Dorothy steps closer to see Bolger. He's a man, as well, but instead of being trapped within armor he appears to made of straw. "Bolger is a golem," the tin-man says. "Wave, Bolger." Bolger does._

_"What's a golem?" To Dorothy, he looks more like an ordinary scarecrow._

_"Golems are quite rare," the tin-man explains. "They're mindless servants. Totally obedient. Watch. Pick me up, Bolger." _

_The scarecrow does._

_"This is all fascinating," Dorothy says as kindly as she can," but there's a wicked witch after me, and I really need to get out of here."_

_"Ah, put me down, Bolger, there's a good lad. Where are you trying to go?"_

_"I've got to find Professor Marvel. He's with . . . The good witch? Of the north?"_

_"The North Tower, do you mean?" asks the tin-man."The Headmistress' office is near the North Tower. I'll take you there myself." He beckons for her to follow, and then walks right out of the portrait._

_"Tin-man?" Dorothy cries. "Where did you go?"_

_"I'm here, fair maiden!" he calls, and she sees him in a different portrait. "Follow!"_

_She follows his trail of portraits all the way to the Headmistress' office. The plaque on her door reads, 'Professor G. Linda.' Dorothy takes hold of the heavy knocker and slams it down twice._

_"Don't do that," says a statue standing beside the door. "It hurts my head."_

_Dorothy nearly screams._

_"Do you have the password?" the statue asks._

_"No," Dorothy says. "I just want to get inside. I need to find Professor Marvel. I need the good witch of the north."_

_The statue shrugs. "Can't get in without the password."_

_"Please," Dorothy begs. "I'm on the run from a wicked witch, and I need to get in or she's going to catch me!" She's close to tears. "I don't know any password. I'm not from here. I just want to go home to Kansas!"_

_The statue begins to say something, but at that moment the door flies open, and Professor Marvel himself steps out. _

* * *

"Sir Cadogan is the tinman," Ron scoffed. "Sir Cadogan. _Our _Sir Cadogan."

"Ron, shut up," Hannah Abbott said.

"I agree, actually," Hermione said quietly. "This is Professor Binns, after all. He's quite good at History of Magic, because it's all written in a book in front of him, but ghosts have a reputation for having poor memories. It's because they don't have brains. Binns could be making all of this up and just telling himself it's his memories. He probably thinks he inspired _It's A Wonderful Life_, too, and if we let him, he'll spend the entire next lesson talking about it."

Ron shrugged. "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don't they?"

Hermione turned to Ron, eyes wide. "You just quoted the movie," she said.

"Harbinger! Weasley! Quiet down. I'm starting the story again."

* * *

_"Dorothy?" Cuthbert says. "What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay in the kitchens."_

_Dorothy is trembling. "Professor - Wizard - whatever you really are, I've got to get home. I don't like it here. It's terrifying."_

_Cuthbert puts an arm around her. "We'll get you home, my dear. Let me introduce you to my good friend, Professor Linda." He guides Dorothy through the door after telling the statue the password: Bubble._

_"Gertrude," he says to the tall woman waiting in the room. "This is Dorothy."_

_"So good to meet you, Dorothy," the good witch says with a smile._

_"If you please," says Dorothy, and her eyes are filling up with tears. "I just want to go home."_

_"We'll get you home," the good witch promises. "Just close your eyes and think about Kansas. Go on. It'll be over before you know it."_

_Dorothy closes her eyes. "There's no place like home," she whispers._

_Professor Linda raises her wand and says, "_Obliviate._"_

_When Dorothy opens her eyes again, she's lying in her own bed at home. "Dorothy, you're awake!" says the familiar voice of her Aunt Em._

_"Yes," Dorothy says groggily. "Where's Professor Marvel?"_

_"I'm here, dear," says Cuthbert._

_"What happened?" She shakes her head, trying to wake herself up. "I've had the strangest dream. You were there, you took me away to a strange new place . . . You were a _wizard_ . . . I can't remember. . . ."_

_"Me, a wizard?" Cuthbert laughs a little. "That would be quite an exciting world."_

_"It all felt so real!"_

_"You were hit on the head, Dorothy," Cuthbert tells her. "There was debris flying around in the twister, and it came down on top of you. I brought you home right away. Luckily you don't appear to have any bruises."_

_Dorothy leans back against the pillows. "At least I'm home," she says. "All I wanted through the whole dream was to go home. And here I am. Oh, Aunt Em, there's no place like home."_

* * *

"And that's how it happened," Professor Binns said. "Class dismissed. Read chapter sixty-four for Monday." He gave them a smile and floated away through his chalkboard.

"At least we didn't have to do History of Magic today," Harry said, gathering up his rucksack.

Hermione was looking at Ron rather oddly. "What is it?" Ron asked. "Have I got something in my hair?" He started to run his hand through his ginger locks.

Hermione shook her head. "You quoted the movie," she said as the trio walked down the corridor together. "You paid attention. You actually paid attention to the film, even before the wizard showed up."

Ron shrugged. "Oh. Yeah. I thought that line was funny."

Hermione kept staring at him, though, until Harry found a way to chane the subject.

* * *

Professor Binns hovered in his office, hands clasped behind his back, an odd, nostalgic smile on his face.

On the wall, mounted with a permanent sticking charm that he'd cast back when he was alive, was an unmoving Muggle photograph of a grinning Dorothy Gale.

She had her arms wrapped around a young Cuthbert Binns.

"No place like home, eh, Dorothy?" he said fondly. "No place at all."


End file.
